Golden Line
by Eman On1
Summary: [COMPLETE] The friction it caused, the moans it evoked were so foreign to Ginny that she held tightly to the source that was causing her her internal struggle.
1. Addicted

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Warning: Slightly AU-ish 

Rating: PG 13   
Disclaimer: Own nothing.

...  
  
  
  


ReaD BeTweeN Thy GoLden LiNes

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Addicted. 

" 'Earth is crammed with Heaven' " Ginny quoted, still caught in the throes of sleep, half aware of her own small hand, the one caressing away at the ruffled head of her family's pet owl.

She was at the owlery, as usual; enjoying a moment of stillness, save only for the occasional hoot or the ruffle of an owl's wing. Her cheek was placed blissfully upon the coldness of a diamond paned window, gazing thoughtfully at the sun. Watching it as it rose to reign.

Dawn.

Pig, as Ron so _lovingly _calls him, was perched cozily in the warmth of her bent arm, arching his head once or twice to meet the stroke of her other hand. Enjoying the pleasure his owner was giving him, he snuggled deeper and to her heat, he buried his tiny head seeking it out.

Unaware and clearly lost in her myriad thoughts, Ginny watched the pinkish brilliance of the golden sun above. Watched as her light washed over the crimson petals and set the olive and jade leaves ablaze. Watched as the lily pads upon the now shimmering lake, glisten and come alive as the orange light assaulted everything in its path. 

Closing her eyes, as the daylight now streamed through the windows to coat its inhabits in gold, she recited a poem that seemed to fit nature's mood...And her own.

  
  
_Pink, small, and punctual.  
Aromatic, low, Covert in April,_

_ Candid in May,_

_Dear to the moss, Known by the knoll,_

_ Next to the robin   
In every human soul._

_Bold little beauty,  
Bedecked with thee, Nature forswears  
Antiquity._

As if jolted from her senses, Ginny peeked at the small content bundle in her arms, now aware of the absence of his pleasurable hooting even though her fingers were unconsciously still fondling the fine silken feathers atop his fuzzy little head.

Smiling softly at Pig but rather discomforted by how hot the room had gotten, Ginny turned away from nature's painting and perched him on his stool, taking good care not to jerk wake him with her movements. 

Just as she was exiting the owlery, she caught sight of a dark corner, seeming enveloped and veiled in black...Save only for two amber circles peering maliciously at her...

Suddenly, her heart thundered.

Somewhat hypnotized by the lull of those powerful eyes, for they were eyes, Ginny was sure of it, she was caught still when the blackness dissolved away to show a strong arrogant peak.

The walnut feather clad shape gleamed proudly as it showed the unmistaken body of that of an Eagle.  
  


  
Draco Malfoy's Eagle.

Now very uncomfortable, she busied herself by brushing away helplessly at the loose reddish strands that escaped her high ponytail. Warily turning her back against the sharp shrewd look of his Eagle, one thought swirled in her mind...

_No, No, an Eagle. Not an owl. An Eagle. Never a fuzzy little cute owl, but, like him, a vicious obnoxious-_

Hearing the angry hoot behind her back, she didnt hesitate for a second, and scrambled for all her worth outside the owlery.

Not until she was safely down the set of stairs that led to the owlery, did she stop and breath and think about her actions.

Snorting at herself, she rearranged her Hogwarts uniform and proceeded to head straight down the hall, glancing once or twice behind her back...Just to check..

Heading for the Great Hall, where Breakfast was served at the moment, she rather reluctantly let her thoughts take hold. Knowing where they might take her, she grimaced before finally giving in.

Malfoy.

Ginny sighed resignedly, knowing well that she couldn't escape him, even in her thoughts.

You see, my friend, Ginny is becoming rather...Addicted...

She wasn't personally aware of him until two weeks ago. She heard of him, and lets not kid ourselves, who hadn't, but she didnt quite associate with him until a while ago.

And that was purely by accident. 

You see, she decided, two weeks ago, to join one of the many clubs that Hogwarts offered. There was only one she was rather interested in and that club in itself was fairly new. It was just open, and it seemed the idea of this club was taken rather well by the students. 

Very very well.

It was after all, a Newspaper's club, and it doesn't really justify the hyperness that overtook the castle at that time...But then again, maybe the students were excited and eager to start their own newspaper... Written solely to pleasure Hogwarts finniest minds...Yes, maybe that was it...Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Ginny's part...

Only later does our heroine find the real reason for the hustle and bustle that overtook the majority of Hogwarts female population. 

And by that time it was already too late.

You see, the President/editor of the club hated to waste his time with –mindless fools- and so devised a plan in which the –imbeciles- who want to join would have to write why they want to join and why he should pick them and waste his precious time on their -worthlessness- on one loose leaf paper and to place it under the club's poster.

In other words, Ginny had no idea who the president of the club was, since he didnt want to interview them like the rest of the clubs did. She just saw the poster on the bulletin board in the Great hall and placed her paper under it, as it instructed...

Here, you'll see what she's talking about:

Excerpt from the newspaper club's poster:

_PS. Put your paper in the basket below the poster. Yes, please do follow the arrow where it's pointing and put it neatly inside. Scribbles and egregious grammatical errors will not be tolerated. If you do summit one that slightly resembles our native tongue, then I'll have to report you to the nearest village, since they might be in dire need of an idiot. _

....

The poster was a dead give away to who wrote it, but Ginny, being Ginny paid it no heed. Being at that moment slightly drunken on the promise of literature and parchment and ink, she idly placed her paper and skipped along the hall...

Yes, it wasn't until later that she understood why all the girls were so interested.

Yes, later...for now he was her '_boss_' in the truest plainest blackest form of meaning.

Yes, he is. For two weeks now.

Two addictive weeks.

Yes, my friend, Ginny Weasley is now very addicted. 

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Eh. End of Chapter one.   
Sorta of Introduction chapter. 


	2. Attentive

_Disclaimer:_ own nothin.

_A little note._

Earlier in the day, Ginny was at the owlery enjoying the sunrise and keeping in touch with her poetic self. Deep lost in her thoughts, her lazy swirl of thinking was actually centered on a certain dark brooding boy. 

Now infront of the Great Hall, and trying to shush the emotions waiting to drawn her, Ginny shuts herself and proceeds to head to breakfast. To her, it was way too early for emotional turmoil.

Snort. Oh how wrong she could be.

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Attentive..

Pausing infront of the high double doors of the Great hall, she stopped a minute to retie her hair, before pushing one of the oak doors open.

Immediately, she was assaulted by a strong cold breeze, causing the loose strands to brush against her face and tickle her nose. Grinning, she caught sight of the Headmaster and waved a silent hello, before proceeding to her left towards the Gryffindor table.

Nodding once or twice to the many greetings and stopping here and there for a little chat, she finally reached the empty seat next to Hermione.

Suddenly feeling the energy drain out of her, she leaned her elbows heavily against the table and rubbed her head repeatedly.

"Tired?" Hermione muttered, as she poured Ginny some pumpkin juice. 

Taking the offered glass, Ginny answered only after her second sip, "Club."

"Ah..."

That was sufficient enough for Hermione to understand. 

You see, Draco was no easy editor and he demanded a lot from the –dunderheads- who worked in his club. And besides, this is the first time in Hogwarts history that the students were given the opportunity to publish and devise their own newspaper. 

They were working none stop for the last two weeks, and in no more than three days, the students will get to see what they've done. 

Three days till the ball. The debut will be on the day of the annual Spring Ball, where the newspapers will be handed to each couple. 

No pressure. _Right_. 

Deciding to worry later and enjoy herself for the moment, she buttered her toast and listened as Hermione berated Ron for eating her breakfast.

Just as she was snorting at their now full-fledged fight, she caught sight of a flash of silver.

At once did she feel the female population stir to life.

Shaking her head in disgust, she went back to buttering her toast and stuffing it all at once in to her mouth. It took only a few seconds until her defenses crumbled and her eyes sought him out like the rest of the pathetic girl majority....

He was at the moment walking leisurely past the many greetings that washed over his tall presence. He offered slight nods here and there to certain individuals, and the ones who caught one of his rare smiles were at once compared to a shining new light bulb. 

Pansy was right behind him, seeking his body and trying more than once to catch his hand as it occasionally brushed away at his long bangs. 

Halting slowly infront of a group of Slytherin sixth years, he stopped shortly to exchange a few words. Ginny wasn't sure, but the way the girls smirked and the sly arch of their eyebrows was somewhat of an indication. 

Turning with a subtle curve to his narrow lips, he blankly slid infront of an empty chair and offered it to Pansy.

Shock was an understatement and the closest to resemble the look on her face. 

Beaming and now very flustered at having finally caught his attention, she sat in the chair he held for her and glanced at the girls with the sick smug grin of a zebra.

Ginny watched Draco as he patted her atop her head, Pansy clearly missing the derision that widened his thin mouth into the not so subtle black smirk that graced his face. 

Leaving her with a small careless caress of his long fingers, he left her to walk past twenty chairs to where his friends were seated.

Hm. What was the saying...?

_Subtlety is the art of doing what you like and getting out of the way before it's understood._

Ah. Thats it.

Ginny laughed softly at pansy, pitying her for her foolishness. What Draco did was just get her out of the way and as far away from where he was sitting as possible. 

Just not in an obvious way. 

Just Slytherin Style.

Now unaware that she was still acting like the many foolish girls she despised, she watched him as he sat and leaned against his chair, laying his head on its back and muttering answers once in awhile to his friends.

The sun above was highlighting the white threads of hair amongst his blond head, and from her vintage point, she could only see the outline of his face; the proud aristocratic nose, the mocking lips, and the white arch of his neck. His eyes were, she sadly noted, in the safe haven of his long hair, as they tended to shield those gray orbs at all times.

All at once, she was caught in the swirling abyss of her thoughts and moral ideals. She was now very aware that, like the rest of her fellow kind, she was unashamedly ogling at this fine specimen of a man.

And she hated herself for that. 

Shallow Ginny. Shallow....

Feeling rather putout by this new discovery, she stood up and excused herself. Waving her way down the table, she thought no more of Malfoy.

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"Where _is _Professor Snape? Not that I am complaining.." The last was muttered rather frantically quick, as Colin was immediately assaulted by the many glares of his fellow classmates. 

Ginny patted his arm consolably, for she too was wondering. Her last class for the day was potions and for the first time in her six years at Hogwarts, the professor was actually later than his students. 

Dodging paper airplanes and the likes that her fellow childish classmates liked to indulge in, she worried that maybe something bad happened to Snape.

She couldn't really stop the grin from forming...Tried to, honest...

The class was soon hushed by the presence of the last person on earth whom Ginny wanted to see. Groaning inwardly, she sat and watched as Draco faced the now silent class.

Eyeing them from one narrowed eye, for the other was still hooded by a couple of long silver hairs, he spoke once, in a clear-cut voice, 

"Open to two fifty five and start working."

And to two fifty five they opened and to work they begun.

-Only to be interrupted by a certain cough. 

Ginny whirled around in her seat and saw Dennis glaring at the front of the room, where she guessed Draco was. 

"Excuse me, but you're not our professor, so..." And here his voice faltered," ...so why should we... listen to-to you?" 

Ginny waited for the storm to pour.

Feeling lightheaded with expectation, she waited, as did the rest of the class it seemed, for something, some response from Draco.

None came.

Rather curious, Ginny risked a glance at the intimidating six-foot presence of the Slytherin. Seeing him leaning calmly on the professor's desk, his arms crossed loosely infront of his chest as he gazed at the window at his right, Ginny wondered for a minute if he didnt quite hear Dennis's question, or insult, whichever you took it.

Another cough.

Cough. Cough. Ahem.

Ahem.

Ahe- 

"I am leaving."

And that was it. Just as that, Dennis stood up, the scrape of his chair bouncing of the walls of the room, as he picked his bag from next to his chair and proceeded to head outside the class.

Or tried to, that is.

Ginny watched fascinated, as Draco stood in Dennis's way, his height an advantage, his glare a threat, and the shark like smile on his face, a challenge. 

She couldn't quite contain her gasp though, as the Slytherin stepped close to Dennis, invading his personal space, hooded eyes piercing his soul, as his finger rose to softly outline the strong Gryffindor jaw. 

She was even more surprised when Dennis merely leaned against Draco's palm, the move so subtle, she could have easily missed it if they weren't standing so close to her. 

"Tell me," Malfoy darkly whispered, even though the whole class could hear. " How is your brother now?"

Those sleek uttered lines worked their venom on Dennis, snapping him from his trance like state, proving as was intended that he was obviously affected by the Slytherin's touch and intimate voice. 

Angry and embarrassed, Dennis stepped back a few paces only to be able to aim the now fast moving fist towards Draco, who was at that moment watching, perversely fascinated at the redness of Dennis's face.

The fist was, as Ginny expected, easily forced back, and as Dennis fell, Draco blanked his face and turned his head slightly towards his spectators.

One malice filled stare, and the class took their hint and started working again.

Her thoughts raging against her actions, Ginny stood shakily from her chair and knelt beside Dennis. 

The class froze; Colin could be heard whispering urgently to our red headed heroine to 'Get back in that seat, Gin, you dont know what you're up against!'. 

Helping Dennis to a sitting position instead, Ginny held him close to her, allowing him to lean against her for the cut on his head from where he fell was affecting him greatly.

She was almost unaware of the calculating and surprisingly dismayed gaze of our Slytherin.

(Therefore)

Before she could get her napkin to dab away at the blood, she was whisked cruelly form the wrist to a standing position.

Meeting Draco's brutal stare, she noticed, to her infinite disgust, how close she stood to him. And how easily she forgot about the now semi conscious Gryffindor in his presence. 

Sensing the malicious slant of his mouth, she quickly backed away, only to bump into her desk. She now knew him more closely to take heed of the signs.

His serpentine smile was as expected quickly shaped, as he stepped more closely to her body, to the point where she had to turn her face from meeting his.

"He needs help."

A low whisper. Quick small breaths as to not touch him. Fisted hands as to not throw herself at him. Closed eyes to better hear his curt mocking words... 

"Clearly."

She was not surprised to be greeted with his derision. But when she felt his palm on her waist, a subtle movement, no one can see, she began to panic. 

Her eyes flew open, as he pressed himself to her. Hands unclenched as he bit at her ear. Hard. Nibbled softly at her neck, waiting for her gasps to tune and her body to shudder.

_No. Open class room, how could...Everybody can see...No.._

But it wasn't so. What everyone saw was an unconscious Dennis, a fisted Ginny and a sly Slytherin.

None saw the hand that stealthily crept infront of her hip, or the uproar in Ginny's eyes.

Mutters were whispered feverishly into her ears. Let yourself go. Moan. Breath. Touch. Between the open subtle kisses and the hard wrecking bites, Ginny was able to withstand the assault. Barely. 

Bastard.

He stopped suddenly. And looked at her. 

Dazed Brown eyes met Clear Gray.

"I'll take him to the Medical Ward." She said unevenly.

"I am sure he'll be fine on his own." He replied calmly. 

She quickly noticed his smug lazy grin.

No! She _didnt let herself go_ as he so vehemently whispered not a minute ago...She didnt. She stood against him.

_I won. Not you. I won, you didnt succeed in humiliating me in class, and therefore I win. So what if I shuddered? So what if I wanted more...? _

Glancing indifferently at her and then at his feet, where Dennis was oh so conveniently sprawled, he added curtly, "Go on. Leave."

Annoyed and miffed at the way Dennis scrambled to obey his orders, and annoyed at how easily she got swept into the feeling of him, Ginny was angered enough to tune out the warning narrow of Draco's eyes.

  
"You cant do that, there must be someone to help him...With the cut on his he-"

"Spare me." He suddenly snarled. As if revolted by her mere presence, he backed away and before seating himself again against the desk, he noticed the still standing shocked Ginny.

_What?!_

"If I want the advice of a _retard_," He lashed cruelly, taking real pleasure in the widening of her eyes, " I'll be sure to contact you, but until that fateful day, sit down or get out."

Ginny left not a second later, her eyes drowning her face in tears.

_No, I won._

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Eh. End of chapter two.

(Guys, you all know what Draco was trying to do, right? Hint: What would the class think if they saw Ginny throw her arms around Draco only to be shoved away by a very revolted Slytherin? That was what he was aiming at. But Ginny was already familiar with the working mind of our Draco, albeit barely.)

  
Thanks a million for the reviews, you got me all flustered, by the way...All starry eyed and afloat..*sigh*..


	3. Affected

_Disclaimer:_ I own zip.

_A little note:_

Ah. Our heroine and Potions class. In the last episode, you get to see how cunning and evil our Slytherin can get. After all, seducing a Gryffindor infront of a whole audience, in order to better humiliate them is probably what Slytherins do all the time...   
  
But nonetheless, as Trancos stated, it is a weird relationship so far, and if my word counts, it will get even weirder. 

Anyways, here's a hint to the cause below:

_I was angry with my friend_

_I told my wrath, my wrath did end_

_I was angry with my foe_

_ I told it not, my wrath did grow. _

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Affected...

"I am not quite sure about the details, but all in all, it was a fight. It appeared that Dennis's brother said something to Draco one day, and next thing you know, they were dueling in the hall...By the way, Qudditch tryouts are today, Ron wants you on time...Oh! Heard abou- "

Somehow, as Ginny was listening to Hermione talk, she conjured a mental picture of Draco dueling. She couldn't imagine him in anything that required effort though, for it seemed that everything he did, even the air he exceeded, reflected his sneaky demeanor. 

If he wanted anything, he could just flick his wrist or open his mouth. All the sly little tricks a Slytherin seemed to be born with. 

It must have been a good insult if it riled up Hogwarts frosty prince, though.

They were walking hurriedly past the corridors to the Great hall for Lunch. Ginny related the past events during potions, removing her part in the fast growing story of the week.

Hmm..

Entering the Great hall, Ginny stayed closely behind Hermione, clearly head bent on ignoring the Slytherin table, but still not quite so sure of her straying eyes.

Sitting down next to Ron, who was actually facing the Slytherin table, Ginny was determined to showDraco, how unmoved she truly was. 

She'll ignore him, but she'll also show him that she wasn't the wimpy girl he thought she was.

And that was half true. After the crying session with Moaning Myrtle, she realized that her storming out in the middle of the class was pretty petty, and that she should have stayed and proven to him that he had no affect on her at all. 

She will. Even though, she's not really that sure if he'll be watching her...

Later, after laughing her eyes out at her brother's jokes and Ron and Hermione's arguments, she risked a glance toward the head of the Slytherin table.

His seat was empty...

Bastard.

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She slumped heavily against the wall, her bones aching all over. Messaging her lower back tiredly, she heard the purring of a cat somewhere under her.

Glancing down, she found Mrs. Norris rubbing herself contently against her legs, forgetting her aching body for a moment; she bent down to gently stroke her tail.

As she bent down, Mrs. Norris backed away. Smiling softly at the cat, Ginny cooed and reassured the cat that she meant no harm. But still, the cat was backing away, now purring loudly, and gesturing wildly with her tail.

Interpreting the signs correctly, Ginny followed the cat down the hall, left to a narrow a corridor filled with wall-to-wall windows and up a flight of stairs leading to a wooden carved door.

A familiar carved door...

_Oh My God...Oh Lord..__._

Ginny stood, frozen, infront of the newspaper club's room, _now_ remembering the fact that today was Friday. A day where they have after school meetings. 

Glancing at her watch helplessly, she revised her sentence.. 

_Had_ a meeting. She was 57 minutes late, in three minutes the meeting would be over...

Watching wearily as Mrs. Norris left here to stand stupidly infront of the lavishly carved mahogany doors, Ginny sighed resignedly and pushed the door open.

She was greeted by the people inside with small pitying smiles and shaking heads that clearly warned her of her late arrival.

As if she didnt know already...

Stepping fully into the room, and aware of her sweaty disheveled state, she ignored the many looks, and seated herself upon her chair.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

"I am late." She ventured, looking at her clasped hands.

"Obviously." She heard his voice from somewhere on her left.

He was behind her.

"I am waiting." 

"Very perceptive of you."

Ginny glared at her desk for all her worth, not yet trusting herself to look at him, wherever he was. His voice was wrapping itself around her, and for as much as she tried, she could not pinpoint his place.

She truly hated him.

She waited still for his riddles, for it was a tradition now. 

You see, he liked to greet the people who were late with riddles and puzzles, just to see them crack under the pressure. To see them fumble with the answer or mutter an apology, feel stupid and run hurriedly out of the room. The ones who answer them correctly get to stay. The ones who dont get out.

  
Yes, a Slytherin in all his finest velvet glory. 

"Listen." He said, easily cutting her thoughts away, and appearing infront of her as he leaned against the desk infront of hers.

Ginny still favored looking at her hands than at him.

"There is a short story which describes the end of Time and its reversal" He said, the words washing over her, as she tried to concentrate on them, instead of the depth of his voice.

"... with people living backwards from the grave to the cradle."

"Other than fiction, where else would August come before June?"

After a couple of minutes of silence, she answered.

Correctly.

Feeling rather smug, she leaned against her chair and met his gaze rather boldly.

She was sad to note that he looked calm. Rather amused, to think about it...

"Here's your second." At her indignant look, he added blandly as he distractedly played with his earlobe, " You are rather late, dont you think? A second one wouldn't hurt, now would it?"

Bastard.

Moving from his place, he grabbed a chair and placed it near her own. It was when he straddled it, that the first signs of panic began to eat their way up her spine. 

Obviously flustered at his nearness, she edged slowly away, only to have him edge more closer to her own. Finally, he laid his right arm across the back of her chair and leaned heavily into her. He whispered the second riddle in to her ear, 

"Two's a company and three's a crowd." He paused there, and Ginny tensed, for he was still currently breathing hotly in her ear, and the sensation was very distracting to say the least.

And he knew that.

He wanted it that way.

Bastard.

"...What are four and five?.."

Pause..

Ginny felt his breath stop, and felt him move far away from her.

Stopping to think for a minute, she felt her face redden and the tears well up in her eyes when she reached the inevitable conclusion.. 

She was sweaty and she probably stunk from her tryouts earlier. After all, they were the reason why she forgot about the meeting in the first place. 

Suddenly, it all seemed too much. Too hurtful than anything he could have done, which was crazy, she reasoned since he didnt say anything at all. Just backed away like she was some half demented skunk on the loose. 

Getting up quickly and causing her chair to fall, she stood up, and glared at Draco, her tears blurring out his expression, fogging out his curious stare and raised eyebrow.__

"..Yo..You Bastard..."

And she left. For the second time, she left a room full of open mouths, raised eyebrows, and curious stares. And a Draco Malfoy standing between them.

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She found herself in the middle of the Qudditch field. Remembering her tryout as a chaser. Sniffling through her tears, she managed to conjure a small grin at her various failed attempts at chasing the quaffels.

God, she failed miserably at it, she thought as she let her scarlet mane out of its tie. 

Hermione was there consoling her, trying unsuccessfully to hide her widening grin. After all, she didnt need to lose another best friend to Evil Qudditch. 

Standing there, she fingered the strands of her waist length hair. The soft texture lulling her as she rather reluctantly remembered...

Bending her head a moment no sooner, she tried to take a sniff at herself. Nothing...She opened the first three buttons of her blue shirt, sniffing still for some whiff, some_ thing _that can tell her how horrid she really reeked...  
  
Ah. Here it was.

Arching her head and meeting the sky eye to eye, she let out a scream; an anguish cry that seemed to express her now mortified self.

And as she cried, the sky cried with her.

Through the first drops of rain and tears, Ginny glimpsed a long hooded black figure. As her senses left her, she stood gazing as it neared her place.

She was rooted, still.

Watching the tall imposing figure tread near her form, Ginny was fighting for her eyesight, trying hard to wipe away at the raindrops that now fell in torrent showers.

Through her blurring vision, she saw the blackness define as the figure glided towards her. Yes, glided, for it was the only way in which she can describe the graceful movement in which he walked. 

He. It seemed her subconscious already knew who it was.

His hood shrouded his eyes in darkness, from the setting sun and the clouds above that poured endlessly on their figures, she could only make out the thin cruel line of his mouth and the silver lock that fell just so across his cheek.

At his sight, Ginny relived her humiliation all over again, her tears fell untouched for they mingled with the rain and clearly he wouldn't notice the difference.

But he did.

He did. Stepping closer to her, his warmth still intact, his hood leaving him dry and comfortable, he laid his palm against Ginny's wet cheek, and brushed away at the fallen tears.

She cried harder at the gesture, and shuddered violently as the wind screamed in her ears, blowing her strands viciously in the air. 

Her cloths wet, and reaching the hiccup state in her crying, she didnt notice Draco unbuttoning his coat. Nor did she notice the arms that crept around her small body. 

Still hiccupping and dizzy from everything that happened this day, she snuggled deeper into his chest, burying her nose in his scented neck.

Scent...

Her embarrassment turned to haunt her again with full force. Now that she was in close proximity to him, smelling bad, wet, and hiccupping like a crazed donkey, she felt more depressed than ever in her life.

Quickly detaching herself from his arms, she weakly backed away, still crying, her face grimacing from all the hurt and humiliation.

His arms tightened around her hips, slithering still to wrap themselves around her when she tried to struggle. Her muttered protests, occasionally interrupted by her soft whimper, only brought her closer to his body. 

Not before long, Ginny found her self intimately pressed against him, his raincoat closing around her, trapping her against him in blackness and warmth.

Shuddering still, her protests never dying on her parted lips she pressed even closer to him, still softly demanding that he let her go...

And there they stood, the rain drumming a fine rhythm against their bodies as it poured, poured, and poured.  
  
  
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Eh. End of Chapter three. 

To one of my beloved reviewers who seemed to have stumbled by accident and is currently sitting quietly pondering whether or not she'll continue this story, well, I say one thing: I might include a little Hr/R, but even that is doubtful ...Maybe..


	4. Afflictions

_Disclaimer_: As always, I do not own the Harry Potter Saga. Yet. 

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_A little note. _

_  
_ *Sigh*...Smelly Ginny...Just wondering, has anyone been in her shoes before?   
  
No matter, this little fic, is supposed to be a one-time chapter. Yes: addicted, attentive, affected, afflictions and aflame, were all little sections in a long chapter. But somehow, I changed my mind and posted them separately. Thus, the vague timeline, the creepiness and the general oddity of the story, or maybe thats just me.  
  
Anywho, the next chapter may very well be the last. You'll understand the dead ends, and the infamous 'Golden Line'. I promise. _  
_

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Afflictions....

She woke later than usual. It was already past lunchtime when her eyes snapped open and the memories drifted back. As she later buttoned her white shirt, she thought about yesterday's rain shower...

They went their separate ways when they finally reached the Hall. Ginny was so dizzy then that she missed out his soft drying incantation, and trudged her way up to the Gryffindor's towers.

Zipping her skirt, she grabbed her tie before retying her hair in the usual high ponytail and storming out, only to come back again to grab her sandals.

She had a club meeting right after Lunch. The last one before their Newspaper's debut. Ignoring her stomachs growl, for she slept as soon as her head touched the pillow, thus missing Dinner.

And now, apparently, Breakfast and Lunch... 

::::

She stepped into the room and was immediately met with open wide stares. Some even went right ahead and voiced their concern and worry that she might have quit. 

She shushed them good-naturedly and told them to worry about their debut tomorrow and not her. That, of course, started a ripple amongst them and they all went right ahead and immersed themselves in their work. 

Before seating herself, she caught sight of Draco leaning against the open door of his private room. He was amused, that was clear, from his raised scarred eyebrow to the lazy grin playing around the corners of his mouth.

Blushing, she ignored him, and the ticklish fluttering in her belly, and proceeded to get on with her work. She finished her project already, but it needed another final revision before handing it in.

As she looked around amidst the many parchments scattered atop the shiny surface of her desk, (_God she desperately needed a binder.) _she half listened to the conversation between Draco and Colin.

  
"What is this?"

"....Um, thats my final draft..."

"I see...Come here, closer. Good. See this, it sounds English, doesn't it?_ Doesn't it_? Yes. It even looks like English, but see here, when you look closely at it, and actually read the damned thing, you'll make no sense of it."

And here, Ginny unconsciously felt the change in Draco's manner. Even though she wasn't quite looking at him, and even though she was currently in the process of tidying her desk to better search for her project, she felt every hiss and snap of his bite. 

She felt his voice sharpen from the mild tone he was using before, and imagined his stare raking its way through Colin's soon to be crumbling defenses.

"In future, if you can prove yourself more capable than this insignificant blabber, I suggest you proofread your work a dozen to million times before attacking unsuspecting readers with misspellings, grammar mistakes and other God only knows what atrocities."

Pause...

He never fails. 

Now forgetting all about her project, she looked at him as he watched Colin step away dejectedly. His mouth curling sadistically and his eyes were gleaming richly at the defeated look on the younger boy's face.

Sigh. 

_Black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous..._

His gray narrow eyes swerved to where hers were staring, and when they met, time didnt stop. Sparks didnt fly. No.

_Was it perversity that I longed to talk to him?_

_Was it humility to feel so honored?_

His eyes questioned hers, and after a moment, his mouth broke into one of his rare sweet smiles.

_I felt so honored._

But then he turned his back. Turned and left into his private room.

_A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing, into that horrid black hole._

He glanced back, and his mouth curled into the usual malicious smirk before closing the door with a final stab.

_Deliberately going into the blackness and slowly drawing himself after..._

_ ...And I wished he would come back..._

And I wished he'd come back.

_ .....My snake. _

...

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she went back to her missing project and continued to search for it, loosing hope and gaining panic each second.

By the end of the meeting, everyone declared themselves done, and Ginny felt the air tighten around her as Draco emerged from his room, checking on everyone. When he glanced her way, a questioning eyebrow to the state of her project, she nodded her affirmative..

...

She lied. So what?

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It was just before dinner. The sky was...Something. A whirl of blue descending into a gulf of green and yellow. A veil of pink was shielding the expanse, as the sun finally rested. 

She was standing there. All alone. Infront of the dying golden rays...Humming. A song to herself. 

He watched as her lips moved, her neck arching to the beat inside her mind, and her fingers as she strummed them upon the window's pane.

He'll never know what 'they' were. Neither will she. 

Her body never tensed, nor did her humming stop.

As he neared her back, her heat a welcome to his coldness, he thought about running his fingers down her spine. 

But then, they were alone. No one was watching. 

He wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her, and drowning her with his being. Breathing her in, he held her tighter to him. 

As sincere as Winter.  
  
And still she hummed, arching her neck, and facing the darkness that beat the sun. Never turning towards him.

Affected. Yes. I think we already established that.

Addicted. All the more, and ever.

Attentive. She is now.

Gasping, she wrenched herself from his grip, only to be forcefully crushed back and facing him, panicking when his hands locked around her neck.

  
Not that. She'll never be able to cope with this.

He pushed her against the window. The cold, seeping against her cheeks, molding into her veins, made her eyes widen, and lulled her mind to scream. 

_No. Dont do that to me._

Still, he did. Ginny heard footsteps, and with shame heard the whoop of encouragement.

Draco smirked in response, and when they left, he stopped. 

He stopped acting, that is.  
  
.....But still, she cried. 

He smiled as she fisted her hands and caught them in her mouth, her face pathetically willing itself to calm. 

Ginny felt his fingers against her neck, where he held her a moment ago. Held, not gripped, he made sure she never bruised. It was all an act, Ginny recited. 

But still.

It hurt.

It hurt, still, when he stood watching, his fingers touching, erupting the many sobs that raked her voice with its haunting tunes.

She wanted to hit him. 

Wanted to hug him.

Wanted to scream.

Wanted to empty herself.

Into him.

And before the Dinner bell, the smaller form of two standing shadows, grabbed the first and kissed him with the passion capable only by the hurt. 

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
Eh.End of chapter four.

(Hm, that snake line, is an actual poem. You'll find out soon.)  
  
Na na na na ..na..na...na..nananan..naaaah,na..when you're looking like that...lalala..lala..lala..laaa..la....hmm..hm...hmm... 

PS. Ignore the above, if you please...


	5. Aflame

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_Discalimer: _Well. Do I look like I own anything?

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_A little note._

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Hm. The formatting is actually intended. The writing is _supposed _to be in the middle. It's actually a lot easier for me to read this way. That's why all my stories are written in this format. Grammar errors... eh. Will do my best to correct those; go easy on me. ;)

Oh and to my fav review so far:

"He is a bastard, and she is a weak minded person."

Well, I suppose it's my fault. Though, I dont think she's weak minded. You see, the plot line of most D and G's is this:

  
Good girl + Bad boy = Love.  
  
The fanfic writers that use_ this_ plot portray the way they fall in love differently, but in almost all of them, the bad boy is not at all bad and the good girl is not at all good.   
  
And I still dont think she's weak minded. He's a bastard, yes, but she...I dont know. Its more complex than that...They have a weird relationship, and in this I am stating that they are in fact, from chapter one, _in_ a relationship. You might not see it, but its there...

Hm. Is she weak minded in this chapter? 

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Aflame.....

...Sneaking after midnight in nothing but a robe to hide her pgs, Ginny slithered along the hallways, praying feverishly for anything to distract Filch and Mrs. Norris from finding her way.

It was a little bit optimistic of her to think that she could finish the paper that she'd been working on for the last two weeks in nothing longer than a few hours.

See, she still didnt find her project..._(God, did she need a binder)_

Climbing the small flight of steps, her slippers whispering across the checkered shiny floors, she grasped the ancient handle and opened the door.

Creeping in and shutting herself inside, she glanced around the room, holding her breath incase she found someone inside...

And holding her breath she did.

Until, it escaped her in an involuntary _whoosh_ at the sight of him leaning against the window.

He was in his daytime cloths, save only for the absence of his white crisp shirt. His undershirt left nothing to the imagination, his bare arm locked just under his lean stomach. 

His back was facing her, his left hand, clad in a leather wristband, was lazily caressing the reflective image of the moon on the crystal clear panes. 

His long fingers hypnotizing her with each stroke, she desperately wanted to shake herself out of her trance and move out the way before he noticed her.

She was stopped by the uttered line, 

"' I have promises to keep'...." 

"...........'And miles to go before I sleep'..." 

He was now facing her with all his glory; the same patch of strands obscuring his left gaze from her, and his mouth set in a grim line.

Opening his arms for her, offering her his warmth, Ginny found herself numbly walking to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her hips and press her to his chest. He nuzzled her neck, and Ginny found herself arching obediently against him, allowing him better access to it.

After he breathed her in, he added with amusement that now she smelled marginally better than the last time.

Blinking, Ginny paused for a second before lashing out with her glare and backing away from his now laughing self. 

_What just happened?_ She thought dazedly, aware in some demented particle inside her being, a person arguing once and again, that she now smelled better than before.

After all, she showered and bathed...And she _always_ smelled good, she argued. It was just that one afternoon...

Aware now of his amused glance, she turned her back against him and proceeded to storm out of the room. 

He mildly, too mildly if you asked her, voiced the question that stopped her mid dash,

"What are you doing here?"

Pausing for second, not once unaware of her state of dress, she picked at the ruffled edges of her pink robe and thought a million lies.

Suddenly, the last thing on her mind was uttered from her traitorous mouth,

" Snape was summoned on Friday, wasn't he? Thats why you had to fill his place...-"

It was to no one's surprise that Ginny found herself dangled by the throat harshly against the rough texture of the wall. His calm stare bore sparks in her, and wherever they landed, her body trembled from the trepidation it caused. 

His anger was boiling just under the surface.

She managed to choke out Harry's name from somewhere and was immediately disposed off, but only to land brutally at the base of his legs.

He took no notice, for he was currently cursing the living daylights of the boy who lived and lived and lived, as he so lovingly calls him. He kept muttering something about 'not being able to keep his mouth shut' and possibly 'endangering the risk of Snape being found out' and other numerous things.

It took a moment for him to finally take notice of the crumpled heap laying next to his polished shoes. The crumpled heap that was currently coughing her eyes out. 

Sighing irritably at her, he caught her by the elbows and used the wall to settle her on. Now leaning weakly against it, she looked at his impassive face and brushed at the lingering tears that were necessary companions when one was being squeezed out of his life.

She eyed his small sardonic smirk with malice in her eyes. The image so transformed her, it took even Draco by surprise. It was bad enough having been treated this way, it was even worse when she was made fun off. By him. When no one was around.

Her hate filled words were even more unexpected,

"Dont you realize" She paused, deliberately narrowing her eyes, "that there are enough people to hate in this world already," She paused again at his amused expression. "Without you putting in so much effort to give us another. " 

"'Let them hate, so long as they fear'" He quoted, an aloof answer to her heated accusations.

"'You have such a February face'", she suddenly snapped, adding the latter with more threat than would have been expected from her small being, "So full of frost, of storm, and cloudiness'" 

His mocking scorning expression told her in no uncertain terms that he now was in no mood to trifle with her. 

Hurt, as well as dejected, Ginny forced her labored breath to calm. Two of her lame attempts at snapping were easily fired back at her, twice as sharp. 

She was still leaning against the wall heavily, raging against his mockery, and when she made to leave, she was pressed unceremoniously back against it by a slender palm.

Catching his challenging gaze, the rage now a full-fledged wave of fury, she let out a small growl and pushed against the palm that was now laying treacherously on her upper chest. 

In less than a second, she was forced back, with vicious strength, against the wall. 

She pushed back up, and was forced back down. 

Pushed back up and was forced back down against the wall.

Up and Down. 

Exhausted and breathing more laboriously, Ginny turned her head away from Draco's penetrating stare. Not noticing the way his eyes darkened, or the parting of his lips. 

"Tell me what you're doing here." He commanded huskily.

Unaware of his now uneven state, Ginny turned her head sharply back at his direction and pushed with all her force against his palm.

When she reached a breadth space from his face, inwardly surprised that she wasn't being pushed back already, she whispered subtly, "Why weren't you at Lunch, yesterday?"

His hooded gaze caused her body to shake and shudder, and leaning closer to her face, their breath mingling, he questioned her again, not the least diverted by her last question.

When she didnt answer, he forced her against the wall again, with one hated powerful push of his palm. Striking the wall with her back again, she let out a whimper and a growl in one and pushed back again.

Only to meet, not his palm, but his own body. 

As he forced her back against the wall, Ginny found her self battling against a number of violent emotions.

"Tell me," He whispered wildly against her neck, not at all the same frosty aloof person she accused him of being a moment earlier.

Ginny soon forgot the ability to speak. Feeling her body rise and fall against his own, feeling his chest so intimately pressed against her, was so chillingly exhilarating that she couldn't help the whimper that escaped her mouth.

Now growling, he caught a fistful of her robe and lifted her towards him, away from the wall, pressing her to him, desperate for her contact.

_As if he couldn't stand the thought of not touching me_, Ginny thought crazily...

Her thoughts were soon cut by the rushing of air against her ears, as she was pushed back against the wall, his body covering hers again.

Only to be lifted, meeting him once, to then be pushed back by his body, against the rough wall. The friction it caused, the moans it evoked were so foreign to Ginny that she held tightly to the source that was causing her her internal struggle.

Pushing and pressing he did, back and forth on her. A rhythm that spoke volumes and raged a surge of streaming sensations on her little body.

Her protests were half felt, her whimpers an echo in the quietness of the room, save only for his now strenuous breathing.

They stopped, reluctantly so, for he still kept his arms around her and she still buried her head under his chin.

"I wanted to find…my project...its...its missing. I-"

"I.. know."

"Wh... What?"

"I've got it in my office. I needed yours to check on something." Was his vague response, his voice calm and level again. It took all her self-control not to move away from his embrace. Feeling his chin move above her head, she tightened her arms around him when she felt it close. He opened it again and answered her questions.

"Snape was summoned that Friday." He hesitated then continued, " I was summoned yesterday during Lunch."

When he felt her arms slacken, he added bitterly, "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori"

Two lonesome figures wrapped so naturally around eachother, in a room that silence ruled, in a castle they called home, in a world thats on the throes of loosing control.

::::::

Ginny checked her watch and waved farwell to Hermione, wishing her good luck on seducing her brother. 

It was the day of the ball, and Ginny slept little that night after waving her goodbyes to a once again impassive Draco. 

Grabbing a nearby book, she landed on her bed and read the night away.

A couple of hours later, Ginny grabbed her robes, the pink fluffy ones, and draped them on, before tiptoeing her way down the Tower's stairs to where the entrance of the Great hall lay.

Here she could clearly see their newspaper's stand, where they decided to lay them, so that whomever was going to enter the Great hall would just reach out and grab one and enter the ball.

Colin's idea...

As Ginny was leaning against the banister, she saw a hint of a dark silhouette. Leaning more of her weight on the railing, she saw Draco with a couple of first years. 

He was wearing the same half scorning, half amused smile on his face, as he was obviously trying to explain something simple to the first years. 

More leaning and Ginny was able to see the thing that Draco was holding to the youngsters. He was leaning down on one knee; apparently very aware of how small and short they were compared to his great length.

Amused, Ginny watched as they nodded in understanding and pointed to the newspaper held in Draco's hand.

As she narrowed her eyes, she caught sight of the article they were so confused about, and inwardly gasping she found it to be her own.

The one she worked daily on. The one explaining what dangerous era the magical world was coming to. How we could protect ourselves and how knowledgeable we should be to fight against the Dark arts.

Not an easy thing to try to explain to an 11 year old...

Oh well.

Laughing softly, she risked another glance and found her eyes meeting the empty hallow stands near the doors of the Hall. 

Yes!

They sold out! 

Unaware that she was now running down the stairs and right past the now scared first years and an open mouthed Draco, she touched the stands dazedly, marveling at how empty and bare they were...

Jumping around suddenly, she caught sight of a very freaked Draco, and laughed openly at his expression. Earning herself one of his real genuine smiles, she glanced at the first years and offered to help them understand-

They were gone before she even finished her sentence.

"You can't blame them. That robe can scare anyone out of their wits." 

He smirked suddenly when he added, albeit a little spitefully" Maybe we can dress Harry in it, let him fight Voldermort with it on."

At her slightly disapproving stare, he shrugged carelessly and opened his arms for her.

Pink fuzzy robe and all, she went willingly to his embrace, tucking her head under his chin and marveling at how safe she felt.

"You'll find a new binder outside your window tomorrow, with your first draft in it." At her wide-eyed adoring gaze, he added hastily, " You're disorganized, messy and you obviously need help. Its the least I can do."

Ginny settled for a grin for her knight in slightly tarnished armor…

Risking a small kiss on the sensitive skin under his chin, she felt his arms tighten around her, and felt him murmur in her ear, "Come on, let's work on your lousy chaser skills."

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Kay...weird ending...And Lots of quoting was done by Ginny and Draco, people...Oh, Golden line is somewhere up there... 

If you haven't figured out the clues, puzzles or the actual Golden Line, wait for the next chapter.   
*Evil smirk*


	6. Addition

'Earth is crammed with Heaven' is a quote by Elizabeth Barrett Browning that Ginny used to describe the beginnings of Dawn at the first scene in the owlery. 

The latter poem 'pink, small and punctual' is a poem by Emily Dickens that Ginny felt matched the mood of Nature, which was Spring at that moment.

The answers to the puzzles are:

. Dictionary

. Nine

The last one was very easy, and Ginny was sure of it, but she was rather flustered by his nearness and then the sudden shock of mortification. The lines she remembered were an excerpt of a poem titled 'poison Tree' by William Blake. Truly recommended.

The following day, when Ginny returns to the club and finds her project missing, she overhears Draco bullying Colin. Lost in her thoughts she recites a few lines that inevitably interrupts her search for her lost work.

The lines are excerpts from D.H Lawrence's poem 'snake'. Also, a remarkable recommended poem. 

Later that night, after Ginny decided to come at night to look for her project or attempt to do it again, she finds herself in the company of Draco. He recites the famous lines from Frost's poem. 

'Let them hate, so long as they fear' is a line from Accius. 

'You have a February face..' is Ginny quoting Shakespeare from his play, Much Ado about Nothing.

And last but not least, the Golden line..:

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori

It is a sweet and fitting thing to die for one's country.

Behold. Here Draco bitterly quotes Wilfred Owen's poem, explaining in his own way and justifying why he's so hateful, as Ginny put it earlier, towards everyone.

To put it bluntly, if you haven't understood yet,

He's a spy. Like Snape.

End.

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